


take me out, take me home

by texaswatermelon



Series: and you go (and you go evermore) [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Mutual Pining, Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Sibling Incest, it's a little time jumpy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 17:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20362708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texaswatermelon/pseuds/texaswatermelon
Summary: She’s never broken a promise that she made to her sister, and she doesn’t intend to start now.





	take me out, take me home

**Author's Note:**

> title from "lover" by taylor swift

News of the Champion’s arrival at Skyhold flutters around the keep like a fleet of hummingbirds in search of nectar. No one talked about Bethany’s arrival in such hushed and reverent tones, but Bethany is not the Champion—she’s just a mage who brought a few other mages with her to try to help a sympathetic Inquisitor end the threat of the breach. People fill the main hall almost to capacity, clamoring to get a nod, a brush, even a glance from the famed Qunari slayer. Hawke manages a few polite greetings, but her focus is singular. Her eyes are trained on Bethany the entire time as she strides toward the back of the hall.

“Bethany, may I have a word?” Hawke asks upon approach.

It’s not a request. Her arm is already looping through Bethany’s, linking them together and dragging Bethany through the nearest door in a fluid motion that leaves Bethany with little choice but to follow. 

Bethany sighs at the forced smile on Hawke’s face and the too-high pitch of her voice. It’s the same one she used when Bethany stood in front of that horrid Qunari’s cage in Lothering and shouted at him for murdering her friend.

“Hello to you, too, Sister,” Bethany mutters as Hawke shuts the door to an empty storage room behind them.

Hawke rounds on her swiftly, too-blue eyes flashing with an outrage that Bethany knows all too well. Bethany is taller than Hawke, but her sister has always been larger than life; larger than Bethany could ever dream of making herself seem. For a moment, she finds herself mesmerized by the sight of her, the wisps of black hair sneaking out of a ponytail and framing sharp cheekbones, skin bright and flushed, eyes glinting in the pale light that slants into the room through a small window. 

She longs to reach out, to brush a lock of hair behind Hawke’s ear, to soothe her before this argument has even begun. She could do it so easily—take the wind right out of Hawke’s sails. She’s done it before. Not in the way that she really wants to, but close. As close as either of them has ever dared. But she’s too late now. Hawke opens her mouth and the words that come spilling out of them break the spell that Bethany finds herself caught in immediately.

“What in Andraste’s sweaty asshole do you think you’re doing here?” Hawke demands, and Bethany rolls her eyes at the colorful choice of blasphemous language. Hawke always thinks she’s at her cleverest when she’s angry, but the effect is simply tiresome for Bethany. “I sent Aveline to take you away from the threat of Corypheus, only to turn around and find that you’ve led a company of mages directly to the front lines of the war against him!”

“I see that your propensity for drama hasn’t dimmed any since we last spoke,” Bethany sighs.

“I hardly think my attempts to keep you safe could be called an overreaction,” Hawke scoffs. “I’m trying to protect you from one of the greatest evils we’ve ever faced and you’ve decided it would be a great time to bring your friends on a field trip. Exactly what part about this seemed like a good idea when I sent Aveline for you?”

Bethany huffs, feeling her anger rise at the sheer audacity of Hawke’s egotistical ranting. The idea that Hawke has any say in how Bethany chooses to lead her life is infuriating at best, insulting at worst. It’s not as if Bethany hasn’t been able to take care of herself these past years since leaving Kirkwall. And even before, when she spent years in a tower full of bloodthirsty Templars and crazed blood mages, she managed to serve her time with only a handful of threats to her life.

“If Mother were alive to hear about this, she’d be going mad with worry,” Hawke continues.

“Don’t you dare bring Mother into this,” Bethany snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “How can you even say such a thing?”

“Well it appears that’s the only thing that I can say to make you see reason,” Hawke exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. “Perhaps you don’t remember, but the last time that we faced Corypheus, he nearly killed us.”

“So it’s alright for you to be here helping the fight against an old enemy, but not me? Your hypocrisy knows no end, Sister.”

“This is my responsibility, Bethany,” Hawke says, and the way her name comes out of Hawke’s mouth sets Bethany’s teeth on edge. “Corypheus is a threat because I apparently didn’t kill him enough the last time. And I’m trying to keep you safe.”

Bethany runs a hand through her hair in frustration. “Maker’s breath, I’m not a child!” she yells. “I haven’t been a child since you left for the Deep Roads and I decided to finally take my life into my own hands.”

That finally shuts Hawke up. She looks at Bethany like she’s just been slapped, body coiled full of tension with nowhere to release it. 

“I know you’re used to saving me,” Bethany says tersely, “but I don’t need protecting anymore. I’m the protector now. I’ve been organizing some of the remaining Free Marches mages for the last year, and I’m actually pretty good at it. My people are strong and loyal and they want to help. And so do I. I love you, Sister, but the days of me following at your heel are long gone. I make my own path now, and if you’re not going to support me in that, then I need you to leave me alone.”

But Hawke is every bit as stubborn and proud as Carver and Mother ever were. For a moment, she stares at Bethany with flared nostrils and blazing eyes. Then she turns on her heel and leaves Bethany to the dust motes drifting through the storage room.

xx

Bethany is six when she enters the Fade for the first time. It’s an odd looking place, structured to seem like it’s her home in Lothering, but the colors are a bit off and things keep shifting. This is a dream, but not a dream like others she’s had. She feels too aware. When she touches the doll on her bed, it’s as if she’s touching it in real life.

No one in her family is here with her, so she ventures out of the house and finds nothing but forest as far as the eye can see, and a few cobblestone paths winding their way endlessly through the trees. A woman approaches her, tall and beautiful, with eyes as yellow and bright as the sun. She wears a white dress and smiles at Bethany in a way that quells the fear she’s been feeling since she got here. This place is so quiet it’s maddening. 

“Tell me child,” the woman says when she’s close enough, “what is your name?”

Her voice seems to echo in Bethany’s head as much as it does outside of it. The feeling that washes over Bethany is one of such warmth and comfort that she can scarcely find it within herself to be scared anymore. This is the same way that she feels when her father sits beside her at night and reads her stories until she sleeps. When her mother wraps her up in a blanket and soothes her when she’s sick. When Carver runs up to give her an unexpected hug. When her sister brushes her hair back and wipes her tears after an injury and tells her that everything’s going to be okay.

“I’m Bethany,” she says, knowing somehow that she can trust this woman. “Do you know where we are?”

“This is the Fade, child. The land of dreams.”

The Fade. She’s heard her father speak that word before, but she doesn’t truly know what it means or how she got here.

“It’s pretty here,” Bethany says, and the woman in white nods her agreement.

“It can be beautiful. But it can also be very dangerous,” she says. “You must always be cautious while you’re here, Bethany. There are others that dwell here who would pretend to be your friend, but actually seek to harm you.”

“How do I know you’re not one of those people?” Bethany asks, and then feels ashamed for having done so. But the woman simply laughs, and it sounds a bit like her mother.

“Well done, child. You’re strong and smart for one so young.” She touches a hand to Bethany’s cheek. “I fear that you will need to be even more so as the years pass. The world will be a difficult place, Bethany. Be sure to keep those you love close to you.”

Bethany nods, but she feels herself growing tired and drifting away. How can she be sleepy in a dream? The woman seems to understand. She brushes some of the hair from Bethany’s face and smiles once more.

“Take care, Bethany Hawke. And remember that happiness is learned, not earned.”

It’s the last thing Bethany hears before she wakes. In the morning, she tells her parents about the dream. Malcolm’s shoulders fall heavily and Leandra cries. Bethany doesn’t understand why, but she can’t shake the feeling that she’s done something terribly wrong.

“It’s not you, Bethy,” Hawke tells her later, one arm wrapped around Bethany’s shoulder as they sit in the grass and watch Carver play with the dog. “They’re sad because you have magic.”

“Like Father?” Bethany asks, and Hawke nods. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” her sister says with a reassuring smile. “No one does. But it’s hard for mages. I’ve heard Father and Mother talking about it when they think I can’t hear.”

This Bethany knows. They’ve all been cautioned endlessly to never talk about what their Father can do, otherwise he might be taken away from them. Bethany hears the Chant and knows that they talk about magic being evil. But her Father isn’t evil, and she’s pretty sure she isn’t either, so it’s hard to understand.

“Will they take me away like Father says they took him once?” Bethany asks, suddenly feeling incredibly alone and scared.

“No,” Hawke says, voice hard with determination. At eight years old, she’s thin, wiry, and strong. She’s taller than Bethany yet, and all of the kids in town listen to her almost without question. Bethany loves her sister very much, feels closer to her even than she does to Carver, who is her twin. “No one will ever take you away from us, Beth. I won’t let them. I’ll always protect you.”

The way that she says it, with her arm tightening around Bethany until she is compelled to lean her head on Hawke’s shoulder, makes her feel every bit as safe as the woman in white did in the Fade. 

“I wish I could go with you to the Fade, though,” Hawke says after a moment. “I don’t like you going somewhere I can’t find you.”

“I’ll come back to you,” Bethany promises.

She doesn’t actually know how to keep that promise; doesn’t know how the Fade works or how she’s supposed to make it back on her own. But she knows that she’ll figure it out. After all, she’s never broken a promise that she made to her sister, and she doesn’t intend to start now.

xx

Varric finds her on the battlements the next day, looking out at the bustle of activity taking place across the grounds. Cullen is putting a company of his troops through some rigorous training. He’s asked Bethany to help him incorporate her people into the routines soon so that the soldiers can get used to fighting with mages at their backs. Apparently their harrowing time in Kirkwall together has helped her garner some of his trust. 

“Enjoying the view, Sunshine?” Varric asks as he strolls up to take a spot by her side. “Has a fit soldier down there caught your eye? Or perhaps the dashing Knight-Captain?”

Bethany’s face crinkles in mild disgust. “Cullen? Maker, no. There’s not enough drink in the world to separate him from my memories of that horrible night.”

“He’s not so bad,” Varric shrugs. “He’s trying, anyway.”

“Perhaps you should court him then,” Bethany quips, and Varric smirks.

“There’s no way the Knight-Captain could handle all of this.”

Bethany knows Varric well enough to know that he didn’t seek her out up here just to chat about any potential crushes of hers. He’s not a fan of heights and he doesn’t often venture up to these parts of the keep. His visit must have something to do with Hawke.

Varric confirms her suspicions when he shifts his weight to lean on the wall and then shifts the topic as well.

“I heard the family reunion didn’t go so well yesterday.”

“Did she ask you to come speak with me?” Bethany asks, already feeling irritated at her sister’s inability to resolve interpersonal conflict like an adult.

Varric puts his hands up in a show of peace. “I’m here of my own accord, Sunshine. Hawke was drowning her sorrows at the tavern last night and mentioned your little spat. Just thought I’d come make sure you were okay.”

Bethany deflates a little at that. She knows that he is loyal to Hawke above all else, but he’s a good friend to her regardless. He never treated her like she was made of glass.

“I’m fine, Varric. I just wish that she would stop operating under the assumption that I can’t take care of myself. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

“She knows that,” Varric says. “But you know she likes being the overprotective big sister. It’s hard for her to see you in danger. You should’ve been there when she found out those blood mages had kidnapped you back in Kirkwall. She could’ve put any rage demon to shame that day.”

She knows. Bethany knows that Hawke wants more than anything in this life to keep her safe. She feels the same way. They’ve always been like that; always keeping at each other’s backs, looking out for one another, ready to catch each other at the slightest sign of a stumble. Carver may have been Bethany’s twin, but she’s always felt her soul mirrored in Hawke’s own.

“I’m not supposed to say anything,” Varric continues, “but a few of us are leaving for Adamant Fortress tomorrow to assess the situation with the Grey Wardens. Hawke is coming with us. You should talk to her before we leave. It won’t do her any good to have a fight with you weighing on her mind.”

Bethany feels the pang of loss in her chest at his words. Whether she and Hawke are speaking or not, it’s still nice to have her near. The thought of her leaving so soon is distressing. But Varric is right, of course. They’ve been living on the brink of danger for the past decade, and every goodbye has the potential to be their last. Bethany will see her sister off on good terms.

xx

Bethany is sixteen when her father dies. It’s not the Templars that get him, as he always feared. It’s the Consumption. The bright bloody rags that litter the waste basket as he coughs and coughs will never leave Bethany’s mind. If she never sees the color red again, it will be too soon. The hole that he leaves in his wake when he goes is beyond imagining—how she’ll heal from it, she doesn’t know.

It’s not long after that when she and Carver have another row. They fight so often now, ever since Father got sick and began wasting away. Malcolm was a pillar of strength for them all, but to Bethany, he was more. He spent the most time with her, teaching and training her how to control her magic, how to use it to protect herself and her family should the need arise, and how to evade demons and Templars alike. Malcolm always tried to treat the three of them fairly, but he favored Bethany by necessity, and Carver never thought it was fair. Now that Father is gone, he blames her for having used up what little time he had.

It’s not fair, of course. None of it is fair. Not the fact that their father is gone, and not the fact that Bethany was cursed with his magic. Especially not the fact that she feels like there’s still too much to learn from him, and how will she carry on now that he’s not there to keep her safe. How will any of them?

Carver is a wretch for treating her like this, for screaming at her until she screams back, until her voice is hoarse and tears stream down her face as she runs out of the house and through the woods at the edge of town. He acts as if she didn’t lose Father, too. As if their sister and mother didn’t. But Carver has always been insecure. How could he ever live up to his two sisters: one who walks the world as though she already owns it and the other who is a mage and requires special protection and care? Bethany tries to be compassionate and understanding, but sometimes it’s hard when he’s being so awful.

Before she knows it, Bethany realizes that she’s gotten herself lost. She’s traveled too deep into the woods (and she’s not supposed to, she knows, because the things that live there can be just as dangerous as any demon). She can’t see the thin line of trees that would lead her back to town any longer. She can hardly see anything at all. It’s growing darker. If she weren’t at risk of being discovered, she’d conjure a flame to light her way and ward off the chill that’s settling. As it is, she’ll have to make due with regular human eyesight.

It feels like ages that she wanders, hopelessly trying to find anything that might give her some sense of direction. The woods are both quiet and terrifyingly loud. Every call of a bird or snap of a twig has Bethany jumping out of her skin. She’s seen the size of some of the spiders and wolves that live around here and she’s not too keen on facing either alone. As the darkness settles in, so does the panic. 

She’s going to die out here, and then Mother will surely perish from another loss so soon after Father. It’ll just be Carver and Hawke then, and Hawke will kill Carver out of grief or anger when Carver says that he’s glad he doesn’t have to see Bethany’s face anymore. Their sister will be dragged off for murder then, wasting away in a dungeon somewhere until she dies of malnourishment or pneumonia, and all of it will be Bethany’s fault because she can’t handle a bit of conflict from her stupid twin brother.

A voice in the distance halts her catastrophic thoughts. Bethany realizes that she’s been crying again. She stops to listen, to see if she should try to find this person or run away from them. But then, blessedly, she realizes that it’s someone calling her name. Not someone—Hawke. Relief floods her body so quickly it nearly brings her to her knees. She starts to run, picking her way through the trees and towards the sound of her sister’s voice.

They crash into one another, Bethany releasing a sob into her sister’s shoulder as Hawke’s arms wrap around her in a crushing hug. She smells of warmth and the lavender sachets that Mother stores with their clothes, and Bethany has never been so happy to see anyone in all of her life.

“Thank the Maker you’re safe,” Hawke breathes, holding Bethany at arm’s length to inspect her. “Are you hurt?”

Bethany sniffs and shakes her head. “Just a bit scared. I got lost out here.”

Hawke’s brow furrows as her worry begins to morph into frustration. “What were you thinking coming out here like this? Maker’s balls, Beth, I was so worried about you. You could have been hurt, or worse!”

This is nothing that Bethany hasn’t spent the last few hours berating herself for. She’s so relieved at having found her sister that she can’t find it within herself to be defensive. At this point, she’d even scoop Carver into a hug if he were here. She doesn’t have the energy to argue now, so instead she just rests a hand against her sister’s cheek, flushed with cold and probably a rush of emotions. 

The move causes Hawke to still instantly, and her blue eyes settle on Bethany, turbulent with emotion. Something stirs within Bethany’s stomach, nervousness and a sense of wanting. She’s not sure what it is that she wants, other than to just be close like this, to soak up her sister’s warmth and the reassuring weight of her pressed against Bethany’s body. 

“Please don’t go where I can’t find you,” Hawke says softly, breaking Bethany’s chain of discovery around her own desires.

“I won’t,” she agrees, and lets her hand drop to tangle with her sister’s so that they can finally leave this place.

It’s a promise she’s made before, and one she hasn’t quite broken yet. She’ll make it a thousand times more if it gets Hawke to smile at her like that each time.

xx

She doesn’t have to search very hard for her sister. Hawke is standing just outside of the door to Bethany’s quarters when she returns, cleaning under her nails with the point of a dagger—a nervous habit.

“Ambassador Montiliyet will be very displeased if she hears that the Lady Hawke is acting in a manner so unbecoming of her station while aiding the Inquisition,” Bethany says upon approach. Hawke’s answering grin is equal parts roguish charm and sheer relief. It nearly knocks all of the air out of Bethany’s lungs, but she clears her throat and carries on before any blush can creep too high upon her cheeks. “I heard you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Missing me already, little sister?” Hawke teases. 

Bethany rolls her eyes and rests her back against the wall next to Hawke. “Don’t be such a tit. We haven’t seen each other for months and you acted like a wretch yesterday.”

“You’re right,” Hawke sighs, dropping her usual charismatic pretense in favor of a troubled frown. “I am sorry, Beth. You’re the strongest person I know. The Inquisition is lucky to have you here. I just…”

She stalls, but Bethany understands. It’s hard for Hawke to say the things she means sometimes, but Bethany doesn’t always have to hear it. She knows her sister better than she even knows herself some days. There are things between them that they don’t talk about, but Bethany feels them all the same.

“I know,” Bethany says, slipping her hand into Hawke’s. “Me, too.”

Hawke glances at her gratefully and squeezes her hand. “If all goes well, I’ll be back before you even notice that I’m gone.”

It’s not the promise she wants, but Bethany doesn’t ask for promises anymore.

“When has anything ever gone well in our lives?” Bethany asks, and it’s only half joking. She worries for her sister; tries not to entertain the thought of something going wrong. Nothing can go wrong. Bethany would not survive it.

“Have faith, Bethy,” Hawke says, and that self-assured grin is back in place. “I am the Champion, after all.”

She leaves Bethany with a kiss on the cheek that burns almost as hot as the regret settling in Bethany’s chest, the weight of the words she’s not nearly brave enough to say.

xx

Hawke and Carver sign up for the King’s Army as soon as the recruiters come sniffing around Lothering talking about a blight. Mother wails at them for hours after they tell her, asking how they can possibly put her through the pain of losing two of her children so soon after the loss of her husband. (Three years is a long time for children, but not for their mother, who doesn’t mourn gracefully anyway.) Carver quickly grows tired of their mother’s premature grief and storms off to train in the yard, leaving the two sisters to console her.

“I know it’s not ideal, Mother, but the wages from the army will ensure that we can provide for ourselves for a while,” Hawke says. “And Bethany will take care of you here. She’s the best seamstress in town, you know.”

Bethany glares at her sister over their mother’s head and receives a cheeky grin and a wink in return. Her long fingers, nimble from years of practicing magic, have afforded her a certain natural skillfulness in sewing, but she despises it and Hawke knows that.

“Carver is so brash all the time,” Leandra says, tears starting anew. “He’s going to get himself killed.”

“I’ll look after him,” Hawke promises. “You’ve nothing to worry about there.”

“And who’s going to look after you?” Leandra asks mournfully.

That’s a question that has been gnawing at Bethany’s mind as well, but Hawke artfully sidesteps the answer. Later, when they’re getting ready for bed, Bethany can feel her sister’s eyes on her, leaden with concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Beth?” Hawke asks.

She’s not okay with it, actually. Of course she’s not. Hawke is her one anchor in this world; the first person she looks for when she wakes in the morning and the last person she wants to speak to before she enters the Fade in her dreams. They’ve never been apart for more than a day and Bethany has never once truly feared anything with Hawke at her side. Now she’ll have to learn how to navigate this terrifying world without her sister’s steadying hand at her back, and the thought makes her sick.

But Hawke has had enough beratement over her choices for a lifetime. Their mother has always been a critic, always expected too much of the eldest daughter, and even more so since their father died. Bethany wants to be supportive, so she doesn’t say all of the words clogging in the back of her throat. Instead, she reaches out to grasp her sister’s hands and looks into her eyes searchingly.

“Just promise that you’ll come back to me.”

Hawke squeezes her hands and pulls her in for a tight hug. “The Maker himself couldn’t stop me.”

xx

Days go by and Bethany does as Cullen has asked—integrates her mages in with the foot soldiers and archers. She allows the work to distract her, the determined set of her face masking the worry that gnaws at the pit of her stomach. She tells herself that a lack of news means that nothing must be wrong. 

Wishful thinking. A runner finds her early one morning while she works with some of the younger mages in her group to say that she’s needed in the war room. When she arrives, it’s just Josephine and Leliana. The Ambassador sets sympathetic eyes on her and Bethany instantly feels her chest tighten in panic.

“We have news from Adamant,” Leliana begins. 

Her hood is down, voice as soft and lilting as it ever was in Lothering, but it brings Bethany no comfort today. She has been changed by the passage of time and the loss of dear friends. Her eyes don’t hold the light that they once did. Bethany understands. She’s lost some light, too. 

How many times have these two women delivered messages just like the one that Leliana is about to unleash now since the Conclave exploded? Or does Bethany only receive this personalized treatment because she and Leliana were acquaintances long ago, in a time that doesn’t even feel real anymore? As a last ditch effort, Bethany sends up a silent prayer to the Maker, to Andraste, to anyone who will listen. _Please don’t let her be dead_.

“The Grey Wardens were using blood magic to try to quell the false Calling caused by Corypheus. We still don’t know all of the details, but we do know that the Inquisitor and a few others were pulled into the Fade in the resulting struggle. Your sister was among them.”

It’s not what she was expecting, but as her mind catches up with the implications of Leliana’s words, she feels her anxiety swelling unbearably.

“They’re in the Fade...physically?”

“As far as we can tell,” Leliana confirms. “Cullen is doing everything he can to figure out how to retrieve them, but they’ve had no major breakthroughs so far.”

So. Not dead, then. Something worse. Lost. Trapped.

Bethany’s fingertips burn and she itches to have a staff in her hands, something to ground her and keep her upright. Josephine must see her distress. She places a hand on Bethany’s arm, a comforting touch to anchor herself to. Leliana’s passive expression finally softens, and it’s all almost too much for Bethany, who would prefer to collapse in private.

“Thank you,” she chokes.

“I will ensure that you’re updated the moment we receive any further information,” Josephine promises. “If you need anything in the meantime, please do not hesitate to ask.”

The only thing that Bethany needs is her sister, but even the full might of the Inquisition can’t give her that now.

xx

Hawke leaves her behind again in Kirkwall. Mother asks her sister if she intends to take Bethany with on the Deep Roads expedition and Bethany knows by the look of instant guilt in Hawke’s eyes that the answer is no. She huffs and stomps away until Hawke catches up in an alley, catching Bethany by the wrist and pulling her to a stop. Bethany argues and Hawke apologizes, but at the end of the day, her decision remains the same.

A year and a half of running around Kirkwall, working for smugglers and getting elbow deep in the most dangerous parts of town, and Hawke still doesn’t believe that Bethany is cut out for this blighted expedition. It’s insulting at this point. Hawke pleads with her to understand (_Mother needs you, and Gamlen can’t be trusted, and I can’t risk losing you_), but Bethany is tired of always being the one responsible for holding things together while Hawke martyrs herself to save the family.

“You’re being selfish,” Bethany says, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

“I know,” Hawke says regretfully. “But I don’t know how not to be when it comes to you.”

Bethany hates her for always knowing exactly how to split her chest wide open. Hawke looks at her the way every dashing man looks at his beloved in every terrible romance novel that Bethany’s ever read, and it makes Bethany want to scream. Their story never ends the way the books do, and Bethany thinks hopelessly that it never will.

Hawke leans forward and places the sweetest of kisses on Bethany’s forehead. Bethany’s breath stutters and she tries not to cry.

“Come back to me,” she says thickly.

“Always,” Hawke promises.

Leandra works tirelessly to reclaim her parents’ old estate while Hawke is away. Bethany helps her write letters and attend meetings at the Viscount’s keep, bats her eyelashes once or twice at the Seneschal in the hopes that it will help even a little bit. Her mother deserves this, after everything.

As they’re leaving the keep one day, Leandra runs into an old acquaintance from when she was younger. She exchanges pleasantries with this woman as if they’d never lost touch, and Bethany finds the farce of it all a bit sickening. She’s never seen her mother thrive like this, falling into old social customs as easily as breathing.

“This is my youngest daughter, Bethany,” Leandra says, and Bethany greets the woman with a tight smile.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing,” the woman says, sizing her up like a piece of meat at the market, and it’s not the same as the way Isabela does it sometimes, like she’s something to be desired. This woman looks at her like something to be purchased. Some chess piece to play with. “I have a son about your age.”

Her mother lights up like a firework at that, immediately spouting off every pleasant and over-exaggerated quality about Bethany that she can think of.

“And she’s a magician with a needle,” her mother finishes proudly.

Something about that makes Bethany’s stomach turn. Any one of the things her mother has just said about her might be true, but not one of them touches on the most important thing about her. Bethany understands that this is necessary for her mother—high society is where she belongs—but in her eagerness to reforge old social connections, Leandra appears to be forgetting that Bethany is the one thing in her life that can destroy all of that in an instant. 

Bethany cannot be traded to a noble boy in Kirkwall in exchange for more social standing. There will be no way to hide her magic from a husband. And if Leandra climbs the social ladder the way that she wants to, marriage to a noble will be expected of both of her daughters. But Bethany cannot marry without exposing herself, and that exposure will endanger her family. So the longer she goes on without marrying, the more suspicious it will seem and the more clout her mother will lose. She is the anchor that will sink her mother’s dreams. She is the sword that will end her sister’s life if someone exposes her to the Templars. 

There is only one way to keep her family safe. Bethany has always been too scared to really think about it. The horror stories that Father told her about the Circle when she was younger were enough to scar her for life. But it’s easy to hide a mage in a small Fereldan town. Not so easy in a city where the Templar Order is the top employer. Where people are imprisoned or worse for harboring mages.

The more she thinks about it, the more she feels at ease with it. Before she knows it, the decision has already been made. Hawke has always protected and provided for their family by any means necessary. Bethany’s always bemoaned the fact that she gets left behind, but perhaps she doesn’t have to be. Perhaps there’s bravery in protecting your family by removing yourself from it if you are the danger. Maybe her legacy will not lie in silks and fancy parties, but in quiet imprisonment.

For the first time in her life, Bethany chooses her own path. Of course, she had hoped to do it before Hawke’s return in order to avoid a scene, but as luck would have it, Hawke steps through the door just as the Templars are leading her out of it. There’s a moment of stillness as Hawke’s eyes take in the scene, as the understanding dawns and then quickly morphs into fury, and Bethany knows that she must act quickly to stop something awful from happening.

“Can I have a moment with my sister?” she asks Cullen.

He looks reluctant to agree, but they’ve helped him in the past and she’s garnered good will by turning herself in. He nods curtly and Bethany drags Hawke into the bedroom.

“_What_ is happening?” Hawke hisses as soon as the door closes behind them.

“I’m sorry, Sister. There’s nothing I can do.”

“There has to be something!” Hawke huffs, pacing the room. “We’ve been good to the Templars, even though they don’t deserve it. And I’ve got loads of coin. Someone will take it to keep you out of that blighted place.”

Bethany shakes her head. “That’s not going to happen. It’s already done. This was the only way.”

“What do you mean the only way?” Hawke asks distractedly. Suddenly her pacing comes to an abrupt halt and she stares at Bethany with dread. “Beth...what did you do?”

The pure anguish and betrayal in Hawke’s eyes is enough to destroy what little composure she has left. 

“I had to protect you,” she says quietly, eyes stinging with tears. “This is the only way I know how.”

“You promised,” Hawke says, and when her voice breaks on the word, Bethany closes her eyes to keep from sobbing. “You promised you would never go where I couldn’t find you.”

She did promise, but that was a long time ago. Long before there was ever a need for her to break her sister’s heart. What’s done is done, and Bethany knows that she made the right choice, whatever the consequences may be hereafter. She steps in so close that their noses nearly brush, and places her hand just over the spot where Hawke’s heart beats through her armor. Her sister takes a shuddering breath and Bethany feels it resonate within her very bones.

“You can always find me here,” Bethany whispers.

Hawke’s watery stare tells her what she already knows. It’s not enough. It will never be enough. But Bethany’s beginning to understand that maybe the two of them weren’t meant for happy endings. Maybe they’ll simply have to make due with fragments of it, and try to be content in that.

xx

To be honest, Bethany has always just assumed that Hawke is invincible. As the years went by and they watched their family fall apart one by one, she felt sure that her sister would be the last Hawke standing. Being a mage in the midst of a war is simply too dangerous, and Bethany envisioned herself running afoul of rogue Templars, despite her best efforts to keep herself and her mages out of the fray. When they joined the Inquisition, she did so being perfectly prepared to die for it. She never once considered a life where she was the sole survivor of their family instead. After all, Hawke is a legend, and legends cannot die. 

But as the days stretch on, she’s left wondering how she’s supposed to endure a world that doesn’t have Hawke in it. Home has never been a place. It’s always been dazzling blue eyes, a self-assured smirk, the smell of worn leather. Bethany’s home lies in the heart of a singular person when no other place in the world satisfies the meaning of the word.

Without Hawke, her world is off balance and empty. Bethany knows that she is strong, but she’s always known that she would not be strong enough to suffer this. She cries until her chest rattles with dry, empty sobs. She enters the Fade in her dreams and asks every passing spirit if they have seen her sister, but none of them can help. Eventually, she starts attracting demons who promise her whatever she wants. When she actually starts considering their offers, she goes to Vivienne, who makes her a concoction to stop her from entering the Fade in her sleep. She remembers the promise she broke when she turned herself in to the Templars, and thinks that Hawke is finally getting her revenge after all of these years.

The days blend together and Bethany loses track of time. Each day is an endless parade of stillness and wretched despair that stretches into the next. Bethany becomes so haunted by memories that she wonders if she’s going mad. Ella comes to check on her from time to time, but there’s nothing that she can say to ease Bethany’s pain, and Bethany has nothing to say in return. She wants to be left alone until she disintegrates into her bed. The passage of time is only marked by the sound of her door opening, of someone asking if she needs anything, until eventually Bethany stops responding altogether.

Today, the door opens and no one speaks for several moments. It’s long enough for Bethany to notice the difference, but she thinks that maybe they’re just checking that she’s still alive at this point. She’s just about to tell whoever it is to go away when the intruder finally says her name, and the voice makes her heart stop dead in her chest.

Bethany rockets out of bed, eyes wide with disbelief. And there is Hawke standing in front of her, looking incredibly ragged and exhausted, a bit battered and bruised, but alive and whole and _here_. For a second, Bethany thinks that maybe this is a trick. Maybe she’s imagined this so much that she’s simply gone insane from it. Or maybe she struck a deal with a demon and she doesn’t remember it. But no. This is real. She knows this is real. Her sister is here with her, and Bethany can’t refrain from launching herself at Hawke, throwing arms around her neck and holding her tightly.

Hawke holds her back. She buries her face in Bethany’s hair and breathes deeply. Bethany has prayed for this moment for an eternity or more, and now that it’s here, she feels every emotion that she’s been trying to ignore for the past few weeks explode inside of her.

“What were you thinking?” she growls, shoving at Hawke’s shoulders and causing her to stumble. Her fury is so quick it’s nearly blinding. She can hardly see through the tears clouding her eyes as anger and fear and relief blend into one unstoppable wave that chokes her as she yells and pounds at Hawke’s chest. “How dare you? How dare you spend years demanding that I never go where you can’t follow? How dare you scream at me for putting myself in the Circle and risking my life with the Inquisition only for you to turn around and go the one place that I can never find you? Did you think that I would be able to do this on my own? Did you think that I could survive this without you? Don’t you ever do that to me again, you absolute selfish wretch!”

Hawke catches her by the wrists, stopping her assault despite Bethany’s best attempts to break free. She tugs Bethany close until their bodies are pressed together, until Bethany finally stops struggling, and then she tangles her fingers in Bethany’s hair and kisses her. Bethany doesn’t respond at first, doesn’t understand until Hawke pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers desperately against Bethany’s lips. “I’m so sorry.”

Then she’s kissing Bethany again, and the wanting ignites so deeply inside of her that Bethany whimpers at the force of it, at the way that it consumes her so fiercely. She digs her nails into the back of Hawke’s neck and holds her there, kisses her back with decades of longing. Breathing is a hopeless feat, and one that Bethany doesn’t even try to accomplish. All she wants is this, every single moment for the rest of her life, even if it kills her.

Hawke finally breaks away with a quiet gasp. She rests their foreheads together as she strokes Bethany’s cheeks with her thumbs, blue eyes boring into her with such intensity that Bethany couldn’t possibly look away if she wanted to.

“You’re all I have left, Beth,” Hawke says. “You’re all I have and you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I thought I would be trapped in that place forever having never told you. I’ve been a coward for so long...I couldn’t die in there without knowing what it’s like to have you like this. I would have torn down the Veil with my two bare hands if that’s what it took to come back to you. I’m never leaving your side again.”

Bethany has always known that Hawke feels this way about her. She’s had years and years to think about it, to wonder if it’s wrong of them, if they’re broken. But they’ve had too much hardship and too many close calls. This world has afforded them too little kindness to care about such things anymore. Bethany has been a coward, too, but she can never let this go again. She understands now that they’ve always been hurtling towards this. That they can have their happy ending if they’re willing to take it. That happiness can be both learned and earned.

“I love you,” she breathes. 

Hawke sighs, looking so incredibly small for the first time in Bethany’s life. She sinks to her knees and presses her head to Bethany’s stomach. Bethany feels the tears falling down her own cheeks as she strokes Hawke’s hair and offers what little strength she has of her own.

xx

They win. Somehow in the end they defeat Corypheus and his army of corrupted Templars. There have been too many lives lost to count, including some of Bethany’s own mages. Some towns will take years to recover. Some likely never will. In some ways, it’s a hollow victory, but it is a victory all the same.

They stay until the battlefield is cleared, the dead identified and burned, buried, or returned to the Stone as necessary. Bethany spends days helping Josephine write condolence letters to families and thanks the Maker that she never had to receive one of her own. Mother Giselle leads a massive service for the dead, and after the mourning bells toll, they have a grand feast to rival the ages.

True to her word, Hawke stays by Bethany’s side the entire time. For the first time in her life, she seems content to be still. She helps out where she’s needed, but the restless energy is gone from her body, at least for now. They’re careful to remain chaste in public, but in the comfort of their quarters, Hawke‘s hands linger on Bethany’s body, never straying too far, never breaking contact for too long.

Bethany is thirty years of age now. That she managed to survive the chaos of the world this long is a miracle. That she finally gets to be with the only person she’s ever loved is beyond her wildest dreams. She understands that neither of them will ever be able to sit idly by while the world continues to turn around them, but she thinks that they’ve probably earned a bit of rest, at least for now.

In her short absence during Hawke’s disappearance into the Fade, Bethany discovered that Ella is actually a competent leader. The mages are free to do as they like—join the College, or Vivienne’s new Circle, or simply live normal lives without fear—but many of Bethany’s company would like to stay and continue to aid the Inquisition, and no one is better suited to help them do that than Bethany’s old student.

After a time, Varric goes back to Kirkwall to help clean up the mess that remains from Meredith’s madness. It’s the perfect excuse. Bethany and Hawke say their goodbyes to the friends they’ve made in the Inquisition, and then they accompany him back to the city that nearly tore them apart. 

Gamlen has control of the Amell estate once more, but he’s making better choices this time in an attempt to be a good father for Charade. They visit with their uncle and cousin for a bit, then stop by to see Aveline and her family. When Isabela hears that they’re back in town, she docks in the harbor and gets them all so drunk that they sleep for nearly an entire day afterward. Then she offers them passage on her ship, and they agree to take it without pause.

Rivain is like nothing that Bethany has ever seen. It’s so vibrant, so rich and cultural and fragrant and comforting, that Bethany is sad she hasn’t traveled here sooner. There’s no lingering fear or resentment of mages here the way there is in other parts of Thedas. It’s a place where Bethany can see herself making a home for the first time since they fled Lothering.

The best part of it all is that no one knows them here. There’s no talk of Hawke’s past exploits, no recognition of the name Amell. They have true freedom, and that is a gift every bit as precious as the time they finally get to spend together.


End file.
